


A Good Man Goes To War

by tazia101



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: BAMF!Patton, Deceit's Realm, Gen, Mindscape Shenanigans, anxiety has anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22056982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tazia101/pseuds/tazia101
Summary: Patton represents emotions and morality: I feel like the fandom has been sleeping on where the two intersect:righteous anger. Set directly after 'Can Lying Be Good?' and featuring one pissed off Patton putting Deceit back in his place.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _“There are three things all wise men fear: the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man.” –Patrick Rothfuss_  
>  (originally published on @knight-in-the-stars, my inactive tumblr blog, directly after 'Can Lying Be Good?' came out)

Virgil was deep enough into a YouTube spiral that he honestly didn’t know what he was watching anymore, so when a knock at the door brought him back to reality, he was slightly surprised to find himself staring at a slime mixing compilation.

He hit pause and slid one of his headphones back, waving a hand to open the door. Since they had knocked, there was only one person it could be, and sure enough Patton wandered in a moment later, glancing nervously at the cobweb décor as he made his way over to the couch.

“Hey kiddo, do you have a second?” He settled himself carefully on the other end of the couch, then curled up in a position that mirrored Virgil’s.

“Yeah, sure, what’s up?” He slid his headphones down around his neck and closed the laptop, giving Patton his full attention.

“What happened today before I showed up? I was napping and I feel like I missed a lot!” Patton tugged at the sleeves of his cat onesie, looking at the other Side questioningly.

“Deceit happened,” Virgil said.

“Well, that’s not the full story!” Patton protested, propping his chin on one hand and pouting eloquently.

Virgil pulled his eyes away, tapping his fingers against his laptop. He didn’t know why he felt so hesitant to say it. Maybe it was the fact that he would be telling it to the same face that he had stared at earlier that day, wrestling with his unease, trying to convince himself that it was his own nature that him feel that something nameless was wrong.

“Tell me what happened.” Patton’s voice was softer now, and he reached out to rest three fingers on the back of Anxiety’s hand. Virgil allowed the touch for a moment then shrugged the sleeve of his hoodie back down and pulled his arm back to himself, feeling the warmth of the touch tingle up his wrist.

“By the time I came in, you- Deceit was already there. Wearing… your face.” Virgil waved a vague hand at Patton without meeting his eyes. “Thomas was freaking out, because. Well, because I was freaking out, because- it was stupid, actually, but…“ He trailed off with a hiss of frustration, trying to force the memories into a coherent order.

“Anxiety. Virgil. Hey.” Patton swung his legs down and patted the space beside him. “Why don’t you come over here and tell the story?”

“It won’t be better,” Virgil told him, glaring at the seat Patton was offering him rather than at the Side himself.

“It’s okay if you need to take a while. I just wanna be able to hold you while you figure it out,” Patton said, and Virgil glanced up to see that familiar sincerity on his face, one arm out to welcome him.

He scooted closer, leaving his laptop behind, and gingerly curled into Patton’s side. Patton held him close, tucking Virgil’s head under his chin and wrapping both arms warm around him.

“Okay.” He breathed deeply, feeling Patton’s chest rising and falling with the same motion. “Right. So Thomas skipped out on Joan’s play rehearsal to hang out with… well, you know.” Virgil rolled his eyes, wishing not for the last time that Thomas would just give up on romance all together, considering how much extra work it made for him. He was well aware that solid relationships helped him to feel more at ease, but the pressure of firsts just made him irrationally wish he would never have to go through them again.

“Go on.” Patton’s thumb traced a circle on Virgil’s arm, bringing him back to the present.

“Anyways, Thomas was making a video, and by the time me and Princey popped in, Deceit was already there.” _Princey and I_ , Virgil thought of Logan saying, but it was a thought that flickered by too quickly to pin down. “We started arguing about what was right, and then Logan came in and we started talking about what to do next, which was when Thomas suggested… lying.” Patton rubbed a hand over Virgil’s shoulder, probably feeling him tense at the thought of how blind he had been, how self-doubt had made him freeze up even as the sense of wrongness had tingled through his body like static under his skin.

“He convinced Roman, then Logan, and Prince swept us off to a stage.” Virgil let his head lean backwards against Patton’s chest, took another breath before continuing. “Finally, Thomas and Roman got a clue that something felt wrong, and called the whole thing off. And when he refused to lie, Deceit stopped pretending.”

Virgil thought back to that moment, when the sneer on Patton’s face told them all what Anxiety had suspected but been unable to put words to. _Not Patton, not Patton, not Patton_ , each of his gestures had screamed, and they had been unable to do anything about it. “Logan… knew. He knew all along. But when he tried to tell Thomas, Deceit stopped him. We had to wait for Thomas to decide, and Logan called him out, and then he was just there. The same. He looked exactly the same.”

“None of us are really the same as we were back then, Virgil,” Patton told him, voice gentle with the syllables of his name, a reminder of the things that had changed.

“Roman still believes him about everything.” Patton’s arms tightened around Virgil, until he wasn’t quite sure if it was comforting or restricting. “He tried to convince Thomas that he had always been you. That you had never existed.” Patton made a small sound of distress and Anxiety curled a hand around one of his wrists, providing a steady pressure.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there,” Patton said, his voice tight. Anxiety ducked further into his embrace and managed to get an arm around his back, sacrificing comfort for even more contact. Patton hummed at the effort and nuzzled his cheek against Virgil’s hair.

“Not your fault,” Virgil sighed. “I should have spoken up earlier. I knew something was wrong.”

“Not your fault either.” His voice was unbearably soft, and when Virgil tried to turn his head away, Patton drew back entirely so that they could look at each other.

“You should go,” Anxiety said, seeing the other Side’s eyes ever-so-faintly lined with black. “You’ve been in here long enough.”

“I’m okay,” Patton protested. “I really don’t want to go.” Even as he spoke, the black became darker. Virgil let his lips curve into a barely perceptible smile and reached out a hand to touch the eyeliner, wondering if it would smudge like his own. Halfway through the gesture, he realized how weird, how intimate it was, and froze with his hand in the air. Patton smiled back at him and leaned into the hand, the arm of his glasses pressing into Virgil’s fingertips.

Anxiety slipped his thumb under the lens as Patton closed his eyes and watched the dark eye-shadow smear sideways at his touch.

Patton kept his eyes closed even after Virgil’s hand stopped moving, and Anxiety took the moment to look at him. There were minute differences between the Sides, especially in their own spaces, away from Thomas’s world. Patton’s cheeks were rounder than Anxiety’s, and his lashes seemed longer. The freckles spotted over his cheeks were subtle but definitely visible, even in the low light of Virgil’s room. And of course the bags that Anxiety covered up with more dramatic darkness were absent, replaced by light creases at the sides of his eyes, where smiles and laughter had begun to make their mark.

Finally, Virgil dropped his hand and watched Patton’s eyes flicker back open, his smile growing as he met Virgil’s gaze.

“You should go,” Virgil repeated in a softer voice, holding up his thumb to show the dark smudge left from Patton’s eyes.

“I will,” Patton said. “But I want to see you again when I get back.”

“Back?” Virgil watched Patton get up and readjust his glasses, then smooth down the arms of the onesie tied around his shoulders as he walked towards the door. “Back from where?”

Patton paused at the threshold, then looked back. His face was unusually serious, his eyes intent, and when he spoke the words were colder than Virgil had ever heard from him.

“I think I need to pay Deceit a visit.”

Then he stepped through the door and was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Morality was different from the other Sides.

In many ways, he was like Logic and Creativity: he had been there since they were children, when their roles were unsettled and curiosity had united them. But unlike them, he was deeply tied to Thomas’s experiences, in which he shared much more with Anxiety. They all experienced a certain level of feedback from Thomas’s emotions, but for Patton and Virgil it was much more visceral.

Patton knew what shame felt like, the curling in the pit of his stomach. He knew how it felt to laugh until his stomach ached and his chest hurt from gasping breaths. He knew how joy made his shoulders feel light, and how sorrow made them feel heavy, and how when Thomas missed someone they both felt it like an empty space in their chests. And of course he knew how Anxiety’s panic rippled through both of them, chest tight and static sparking under skin.

He was familiar with the way he felt now, knew what it meant. The heat burning across his cheeks and down the back of his neck, the weight of his hands, how his shoulders straightened and mindless waves of energy flickered down his arms, begging for an outlet.

This feeling was a rare one, something he would usually press down under a smile but now caught in his fists and held tightly enough that his knuckles turned white.

Morality was angry. Furious.

For Deceit to have taken his face, his voice, and used them to manipulate the others. Morality’s _family_. For him to have swept back into their lives, an unwelcome guest from the beginning, after they had banded together to push past his lies into acceptance. 

It was unthinkable. And Morality was going to make sure it wouldn’t happen again.

He paused on the threshold of Deceit’s realm to take a deep breath, pushing down the unreasoning sparks of anger and holding his purpose in mind. Then he stepped forward, into the darkness.

* * *

Colors swirled around him and settled into a yellow brick road, winding over the hill. For a moment, there was nothing else, then the details filled in around him. Morality stayed still until his surroundings had settled.

On his right was a dark forest, half-seen whispering shadows sliding between the trunks. On the left, a cliff face dropped steeply away into a steel-blue ocean, tossing with stormy waves. The yellow road wound a precarious line between the two, out to rolling green hills and a shining city just visible on the horizon.

Deceit’s realm was a treacherous one, which was why only Morality could make this journey.

He looked around once more, then ran for the cliff edge and jumped, fighting the urge to close his eyes as he fell toward the wild sea below.

The ocean rose in waves to meet him, and he landed face-first on a particularly tall one. It wobbled but supported his weight, like a mountain of blue jelly. Morality pushed himself to his feet and looked out over the shifted sea, his hands on his hips. As soon as he had landed, the churning ocean had turned into a series of labyrinthine paths stretching as far as the eye could see, formed by the frozen crests of waves.

The wave that had stopped his fall seemed to continue straight for several paces, then swerved sharply to the left. 

Morality followed it to the turn, then kept walking onto the air.

It supported his weight, and he put his arms out for balance as he carefully continued in a straight line. At first, he could comfortably put one foot in front of the other, but as he continued, the invisible path began to narrow. He could feel the edges curving away under his shoes, thinner and thinner. Eventually, when his questionable sense of balance was starting to wobble and he was uncertain if he could continue without falling, he stopped and folded his arms.

“Deceit,” he called.

No answer.

He closed his eyes and nudged his power awake, reminding himself that as a part of Thomas, no realm in the mindscape was really foreign to him. He was just as connected to this scene as he was to his own room, and he had as much power here as anywhere.

“ _Deceit_ ,” he said, his voice rolling over the frozen sea and the unseen wood at the top of the cliffs. The waves shivered in the sound, and Morality waited, listening to its echoes. For a few breaths, there was no response, and he started considering a return to one of the shared spaces, where he could summon Deceit without trouble. 

But even as he considered it, the path in front of him became visible, a string stretching across the frozen waves, leading to a horizon that seemed impossibly far away. Morality narrowed his eyes at the far-off trees and stepped determinedly onto the tightrope. Good. He could meet Deceit on his own ground. It would give Deceit a sense of safety, of comfort. Misplaced, of course, but important to the discussion.

 _It’s all in the mind_ , he reminded himself as he wobbled precariously and had to stop to regain his balance. Of course, that wasn’t quite as reassuring as it could be, considering that he himself was a mental construct, but it reminded him that even if he did fall, it wouldn’t hurt him.

The confidence closed around him like two walls to rest his hands against, keeping him straight and true as he made his way forward.

The land rose up faster than seemed possible, then shrank away again. The trickery of the landscape reminded Morality of his anger, and he pressed forwards with purposeful strides.

Suddenly, the shore was beneath him, as though it had been there all along. Looking back, Morality could see the ocean’s waves lazily rolling against the cliffs, but there was no string visible, no path backwards.

Ahead of him, a cave mouth opened, leading to darkness. Morality approached the entrance and spoke quietly, listening to the words echo down the stone tunnels.

“No more tricks, Deceit. I want to talk.”

He stepped forward and the sunlight seemed to come with him, keeping the cave walls pale. Grateful for it, he continued at a faster pace, the ground sloping down and eventually evening out into a hallway. At the end of the hallway, a doorway marked the entrance into a larger room.

Morality made his way to the doorway and saw Deceit sitting in a large black chair, facing away from him. As he entered the room, Deceit spun and tented his fingers.

“I had no idea you were coming.” As he focused on Morality, his eyes widened and a rare genuine expression crossed his face, slowing the end of his carefully chosen phrase. Surprise, Morality thought, and then realized that it was closer to fear. Good. The sight of him reminded Morality of everything that Deceit had threatened in the past, and what he had done today while Patton wasn’t there to protect the others. Fury sparked in his stomach and crackled in his ears, begging him to act without thought, to protect, to _destroy_. 

Deceit was squinting at him, trying not to look away but obviously blinded by-

Oh. Morality glanced down and realized his emotions had bled outwards from his constructed body, creating a tear in Deceit’s world where his own powers unfurled as a bright light at the edges of his form.

Hastily, Patton dismissed the show of power and the room instantly grew darker. Deceit was blinking frequently, against his best efforts, trying to readjust to the gloom.

“Hey there,” Patton said, folding his hands in front of him and taking a deep breath. The sound of his own voice reassured him, brought him back to the task at hand. “Long time no see.”

“I know you missed me,” Deceit said, his mismatched eyes flicking up to Patton’s gaze.

“Can’t deny we didn’t,” Patton agreed. “We were kiiiinda getting along fine without you.”

“Oh, yes, things were going wonderfully with Thomas not knowing about the Others,” Deceit mocked, propping his chin up with a hand and crossing his legs carelessly.

“We both know you didn’t interfere to help Thomas.” Patton crossed his arms and schooled his expression into his young-man-you-had-better-explain-this-mark-right-this-moment face. “But you did more than interfere, Deceit. You took my place.”

“Sorry,” Deceit muttered.

“Yes, I know you aren’t. That’s why I’m here.”

“And you have a very good chance of convincing me,” Deceit said encouragingly, leaning forwards and widening his eyes in attentiveness.

“I’m not trying to convince you that what you did was wrong, kid.” Patton let a touch of sympathy into his tone. “I know that you are who you are, and that’s not gonna change. Like all of us, you have a time and a place.”

He closed his eyes and focused his thoughts on his own realm, reaching through the filaments of the mindscape until his fingertips brushed paper. From the air he drew a letter, holding it out for Deceit to see.

He immediately reached for it, brow furrowed, but Morality snatched it away, waiting for Deceit to meet his eyes again.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked conversationally, checking the sealed corners of the envelope, then flipping it around so that Deceit could read Thomas’s name scrawled across the front.

“Of course,” Deceit said lazily, leaning back in his seat and trying to look at ease as his eyes followed the movement of the letter in Morality’s hand.

“It’s every lie you have ever told to Thomas. It tells him most of what you kept from him, and gives him all the questions he would need to figure out the rest.”

“It would destroy him,” Deceit hissed. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.” Morality held the letter loosely between his first and second finger, as though he wouldn’t care if he dropped it. Deceit looked angry, and Morality could tell it hadn’t dawned on him yet. “It would hurt Thomas a lot more than I would like. No one should know everything about themselves. But I can’t necessarily protect him forever, and more importantly, there would be no lies left.”

Deceit’s eyes widened in realization, and he looked up at Morality with panic, as if Morality was going to tell him that he had drawn the wrong conclusion. Morality let an apologetic smile twist the corners of his mouth, watched the real fear settle in as Deceit realized that he was completely serious. “You wouldn’t be needed anymore.” He rested the letter against his lips and held eye contact with Deceit. “And without Thomas telling lies, you won’t exist.”

“What about when his mum asks him if he’s sleeping enough? What about people who ask if he remembers them and he doesn’t? You need me. I’ll always be needed.” The panic in Deceit’s voice was easy to hear, as was the lack of belief in his own assertions.

“When lying is the logical or moral thing to do, Logic and I can take care of it. You are above all a construct of denial. And while denial is important, it is never necessary.” Deceit’s eyes flickered from side to side, a cornered animal trying to find a way out.

Patton’s resolve threatened to collapse, but he kept the letter held in front of him, a visual representation of the reality of his threat.

“I don’t want to do that to you.”

The confession was quiet and sincere, and Deceit looked up with sudden hope. “I said before that we all have a time and a place, and I really do believe that.” Morality pointed one finger at the two-faced Side and used his power to press under his chin, a gentle pressure and a clear threat.

“But your place is not one of ours. You are welcome to share our spaces, to interact with Thomas. We don’t block each other, that’s not how we work. That said, if you pretend to be one of the other Sides again, I _will_ make you irrelevant. I will take your power, I will erase you, and I will make sure that you never hurt any of them ever again.”

Morality twisted the letter upward and let the light of his own domain shine through, a burst of sunlight that Deceit flinched from, closing his eyes against the glare.

When it vanished into the gloom of the cave, the letter was gone and Morality was empty-handed once more.

“Understand?” he asked.

“You’ve made such a huge difference,” Deceit mocked, leaning back. “I’m truly a new man.” He held out a hand as if he were checking his nail polish, and affected a disinterested tone. “I don’t care about you, or any of the others. I don’t want to see you again.”

Patton smiled. “Perfect.” He knew it was as close to acceptance as he would get from Deceit. He was aware that he had frightened him, but he hoped that the lines he had drawn today might create space for actual communication and trust, somewhere in the future.

“Would you like some spaghetti tomorrow? Just you and me,” he added, knowing that none of the others would want to make nice with Deceit any time soon. Except perhaps Roman, but Patton wouldn’t be letting the two of them interact for a while.

“I…” Deceit hesitated, and Patton gave him an encouraging look, widening his eyes in supplication. “I would hate that,” he said decidedly.

“Amazing!” Patton clapped his hands. “I’ll see you at six. Looking forward to it.”

“I’m not,” Deceit muttered, turning back around. His sulky denial reminded Patton suddenly of Anxiety, and he thought of Virgil waiting in his dark room. The association doused the remainder of his anger, leaving him tired and craving warm baked goods.

“Glad to hear it,” he said, and summoned one last item, tossing it over his shoulder at Deceit as he left. “Wear it to dinner,” he called as the other Side caught it. “I think it’ll be… hissterical.”

He was giggling as he left, and the sound of outrage followed him back into the sunlight as he focused on Anxiety’s room and stepped out of Deceit’s.

He couldn’t wait to tell Virgil about Deceit’s new snake onesie. He really really really hoped that he would wear it to tomorrow’s dinner. If he didn’t, Patton might be tempted to change him into it anyways.

After all, some things you simply don’t forgive right away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patton and Deceit's vaguely mentioned backstory is the topic of two other fics I've written: [Wrong With Rare Exceptions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22070332) is about Patton and Deceit's friendship when Thomas was a kid, while [Postponement](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22069924/chapters/52669138) explores Deceit's role in the process of coming out to yourself and is set in Thomas's teenage years.


End file.
